Travelers (Stars Edge: Nel Bently Book 1)

by V. S. Holmes

  Lin screamed furiously, raising her gloved palm and firing two successive shots at the belly of the craft. “Damn you!”

  Before Nel could think better of it, her feet were pounding down the hillside, skittering over loose rocks. She slid the last few meters down to the site. Pain lanced up her leg at the awkward landing. She hissed through her teeth and hobbled around the open units. She expected the light of the beacons to be warm, but they washed coldly over her. The electricity set her hairs on end. “Lin.”

  The woman didn’t answer, snarling words Nel recognized only as curses.

  Nel paused a step behind her. She steeled herself, then tentatively reached out and took Lin’s gloved hand. She had not heard the conversation, but knew enough that something had gone wrong. “Come on. Let’s go home. We can deal with it after we’ve slept.”

  Lin whirled on her, and Nel expected a shouting tirade. Instead her voice was hoarse and quiet. “He fucking left me here. I haven’t seen him in a decade, and he left me here.”

  Nel brushed a long lock of black hair behind Lin’s ear. “I know. I’m sorry.” She tugged on the other woman’s hand gently.

  The pulse swept past, this time sucking air towards the ship. With the fourth pulse, the ship was gone. The beacons crackled into darkness. The sky was studded with stars. The night was quiet.

  Lin jerked a nod and followed Nel unsteadily to the Jeep.

  Emilio waited for them, leaning on one of the doors. “You appear to have shot my ride — mind dropping me at home?”

  Nel didn’t answer, only opened the rear door for him and climbed into the driver's seat. She didn’t notice all the bumps and ruts on their way back down to the highway. No one spoke, wrapped in thought as their private worlds ended in a blast of light and silence.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Emilio squeezed Nel’s hand, but did not speak as she let him out in front of his restaurant. Lin was silent until they stood under the luke-warm water of the shower.

  “He said we weren’t ready. He said tonight was a night for peace and alliances and awakening, and we only had bloodshed.” Her breath hitched and she looked down. “I tried everything I could and failed.”

  Nel peered up into Lin's dark eyes. “I don't know what to say. I barely understand what just happened. But I don't think you failed. We failed. Humans failed. We’re nothing if not stupid and stubborn and violent. Together we can be beautiful, but we can be terrible too.”

  “We had 14,000 years to be ready, what can I possibly do in twenty?”

  “He’s coming back?”

  “Yes.”

  Nel wrapped her arms around Lin, careful of their collection of new bruises. “Then we’ll get ready. Think of all that has changed in the last ten years. We’re almost there, I promise.” Lin rested her forehead on Nel’s. They were too exhausted to weep, but Nel could feel her shaking.

  “What if humans knew something was coming?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Lin pulled away. Her eyes held the clarity and honesty that only exhaustion brings. “I want you to publish your report.”

  •

  Dawn came without mercy. All Nel had wanted to do was sleep, but it eluded her. She stared at the curve of Lin’s back, watching the slow rise of her ribs as she breathed. The night before clattered into place in her mind. Her chest tightened with each event. They hadn’t cleaned the site before leaving, and Nel had only the barest idea what was left. Fuck, I think there are bodies.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Nel glanced over. Lin’s back still faced her. “What?”

  “You've been fidgeting for the last few minutes.”

  “I thought you were asleep.”

  “I thought you were. Think I could sleep after last night?”

  Nel laughed softly. “Neither could I.” She reached up and tangled her hand in Lin’s hair. “I’m worried about what condition the site is in.”

  “Archaeologically, or otherwise?”

  “We left beacons there. And bodies. And fuck knows what else.”

  “First thing tomorrow, we’ll go clean up.”

  Nel laughed softly and tucked her head against the nape of Lin’s neck.

  “What?”

  “It already is tomorrow.”

  •

  Nel leaned back in the precinct chair. It seemed like years since she had last sat there, listening to the police refuse to pursue the truth. Now the anger and frustration faded into something else. It’s easy to think in black and white. Los Pobladores aren’t all evil, and we aren’t all good. Just like Lin said, each of us is the good-guy in our own story. Munoz stepped in with a nod at her. “Thank you for your prompt arrival. We've reviewed the autopsy of your colleague Dr. Servais.”

  “Were you able to get any DNA off his wounds? His fingernails maybe.”

  “Despite what television tells us, it's rare we get so lucky, Dr. Bently. Our coroner reviewed the circumstances and compared it to his wounds. It seems we were wrong in our initial assessment. Dr. Servias was not murdered. He was struck by a vehicle on his way back from the site. We examined his car. The battery was dead. He must have left his lights running and needed a lift back to the Vecuna y Las Rosas. These back roads are dark at night and people often drive far too fast.”

  Nel's thoughts screamed through her head. You're fucking kidding me. “Where's your bulldog, Reyes? There's no way this was an accident. You wouldn't have assumed homicide without a good reason.”

  “Reyes has been called back to the city. I'm sorry that our actions upset you, Dr. Bently. We have Dr. Servais's personal effects, and are ready to release both them and the body to you. Have you made arrangements?”

  “Yeah, I filed the paperwork and everything. I should be gone by next week. I'll call the funeral home now.” She rose and fumbled her phone from her pocket as she headed toward the door.

  “We'll be ready when they arrive.” He paused at the door to their offices. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  •

  Nel took the stairs two at a time. She was panting as she shoved open her door. “Lin?” The silence was emptier than usual. She scanned the room, noting the lack of computer and clothing that had littered the floor that morning. “Fuck.”

  Nel wasn’t big on goodbyes, but leaving without warning was just as shitty. She started to search for a clue, any sign that the woman would be back. Eventually her search ended in her tidying the room. Cleaning yielded a few pieces of paperwork and a shirt she had forgotten she brought. Her eyes narrowed on the box tucked under her pillow. That wasn’t there before. She flipped it open. Inside nestled a bolo tie. The dark leather coiled beneath a metal object. Nel lifted it out carefully, angling it toward the light from her window. The metal was polished to a high sheen, the surface mottled with darker color and etched with a design she recognized. It was the same one her fingers traced down Lin’s body.

  A folded paper sat under the coiled leather. She sank onto her bed and unfolded the paper.

  Nel

  Sorry I left so quickly. Can’t have a gunfight without involving the police, I suppose. I’m staying low for a while. Traveling, spreading the word. I was serious — I want you to publish your preliminary findings. There’s so much more we want to share with the earthbound humankind and I know your study will help.

  -L

  P.S. This is a piece of space-rock, from your rocking space almost-girlfriend. I’ll see you again.

  Nel tucked the letter away. Everything was so surreal. Two weeks ago, she was leading a dig in the boonies of Chile with her best friend. Now, she had no friend, no site, and no almost-girlfriend. She wasn’t ready to go home. Chile was like a vacation, even if she was working. Home meant returning to reality, one that should have Mikey in it. Who knows if I’ll ever be able to come back to this site again after what happened. Regardless of what actually happened, she would be surprised if the feds did
n’t blame her for the mess. She draped the bolo over her neck and leaned back against the chimney. She cracked open her beer. “You were right Mikey. She’s tall and fucking badass.” She raised the bottle before splashing some onto the ground below. “I’ll miss you, man.”

  Her gaze fell to the empty spot beside her. Mikey sat there. Lin sat there. Her throat was suddenly tight. She wasn’t ready to be alone.

  EPILOGUE

  Rocks skittered under Nel’s boots. She had thought a thousand times about this moment for the past month. She still did not believe it had come. She tucked the box to her chest. Mikey didn’t deserve to be shoved into a backpack pouch with expired sunscreen and a sandwich from last season. The hill had not changed, but her knees were weak by the time she tottered into the cave’s entrance. The turquoise water chattered through the rock face, and Nel laid Mikey on an outcropping while she shucked off her boots. Some things were meant to be done as soul-bared as possible, and boots were not part of that picture.

  The box was warm in her hand, sunwarmed, but also body-warm and breath-warm. It seemed fitting that under the high noon light, that they both would seek shade in the ancient shelter.

  Nel carefully undid the top, tapping the displaced grey dust from the lid before laying it aside. She sat carefully beside it, feet trailing in the water. “It’s been a while since I talked to you. I don’t think you can hear me, that you’re up on some cloud listening, don’t worry. But maybe you’re in the fish here. Maybe you’re in the water. Maybe you’re somewhere up in the stars. Maybe you’ll be part of what Lin needs for her family to find their way back.”

  She dipped two fingers into the water, then his ashes. The body was ephemeral, really. The fear-rooted embalming, pretending at life, was only more painful. You can’t grieve if they’re still there. If you never accept they’re gone. Nel had never been a griever, but she had never lost someone as integral to her being, to the career she had built, as Mikey.

  She trailed her fingers into the water again, letting ash disappear downstream. “Dammit, Mikey, I guess you’ll get me to sing after all.” She cleared her throat softly. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.” Her fingers brushed ashes, water, ashes, water. Her voice did not soar in the canyon, rather the sound stumbled against the stone as she let Mikey go, the whisper of ashes washed from her hands.

  “And we’ve been there ten thousand years as bright shining as the sun.” She botched half the lines, humming through the words she was uncertain of, and singing the chorus more than she figured was accurate. Finally, the box was all but empty, and her fingers were pruned with their continued swim. She trailed a finger around the inside of the box and pressed it to her lips. The ashes tasted like sand, but she smiled. “You may be a thousand things now, but you’ll also be in my bones.”

  She rose with a sigh and began the trek back up the hill. The low slung sun painted the sky a soft almost-green at the edge of the blue of dusk. A battered car stood behind the jeep. Emilio leaned on one open door, his expression that of patience and understanding. He watched her clamber over the rail, gaze brushing red eyes and lighter shoulders. Still, he waited to speak until she raised her hand in greeting.

  “This is a good place.”

  She nodded. “When we were first here, he said this is where he’d want his ashes, some of them, at least.”

  He hummed in acknowledgement. His eyes remained fixed on the sky for another minute before easing himself up onto the hood of his car. “We have a story about this place, you know.”

  “A Los Pobladores story, or a another kind?”

  “I think they are the same.”

  She smiled faintly. “Perhaps you’re right.” She hoisted herself up beside him, leaning back on her elbows. “You gonna tell it, or just tease me?”

  He grinned. “You are full of impatience, Bently. It's a good story, but not one for today.” He gestured, patient and gentle, to the canyon. “My father said when our ancestors were new, this world was already old. Our people first began to search. When you find what you're searching for, you come find me and I'll tell you the story.”

  “But I'm always searching, remember?” She leaned her head back, staring at the first, dim stars. “I think searching, exploration, is a home of sorts. Looking for a greater sense of home. Besides, without exploring, without those questions that lead us there, we wouldn’t have stories to tell, now would we?”

  Emilio's eyes flicked to her and softened. “Perhaps we say the same thing, just in different words.”

  END

  Start the next adventure now with Drifters!

  Discover the rest of Nel Bently Books:

  Travelers

  Drifters

  Strangers

  Heretics

  Enjoy Fantasy? Check out my dark epic fantasy series!

  Smoke and Rain

  Lightning and Flames

  Madness and Gods

  Blood and Mercy

  Join my Explorers for exclusive content, free books, and updates, and please don’t forget to leave a review!

  Check out the next

  Nel Bently Book

  "Lucy, I'm home." Nel's whisper wound through the deserted house. She dropped her bag on the bench by the door and sighed. As much as she loved flying, eighteen hours of air travel made her body ache.

  Extracting a sweating beer from the Trader Joe's bag on the counter, she meandered through the house. Lights did little to warm the empty space as she made sure everything was how she left it a week ago. She turned on her desk lamp and ran her fingers over the stack of half finished lesson plans. There was another week before she really had to work on them.

  The thought of going back was unbearable.

  She turned the light off again and stepped onto the back stoop. Brown grass and plastic lawn furniture was a poor excuse for a patio, but it was hers. Her knees cracked as she sank onto the steps. Sunlight dripped across the sky above the scraggly pines between her joke of a lawn and the wetlands beyond. Peepers sang their last love songs of the season. It was cool, compared to Chile, but still warm enough for just shorts and a tee. She tipped back her beer, enjoying the microbrew she missed all summer. Mikey’s echo eased down beside her. “Last gasp of summer, eh?” Talking to a ghost was morbid, but no one was there to judge her. “One week left of freedom before we're expected to be adults again."

  His response would have been teasing. "If you had your way you'd still be a party-hard grad student with a different girl in your bed each night."

  "If I had my way you wouldn't be dead." She glanced over. The spot beside her was empty, the porch clammy from the morning's rain. She tugged her phone from her pocket and switched off airplane mode. Two texts from Martos, and a phone call from the college. She thumbed through to Lin's number, in case she missed something. Nothing. Before thinking better of it, she tapped the green button.

  “We're sorry, the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.”

  She pursed her lips and tossed the phone across the porch. Lin and Chile and spacecraft were worlds away from her now, a distant dream. Despite bordering on a nightmare for half the time, she didn't want to wake from it. Clouds dotted the darkening sky. See that blue star, somewhere between here and there.

  Her groceries thawed on the counter, but she couldn't bring herself to get up to make dinner. "It's not fair, you know." She addressed the expanse of dry grass, as if Mikey still stood there, poking at the fire they always lit at the end of summer vacation. "First you, then Lin? I'm the one that's supposed to do the leaving."

  Smoke. Screaming. The sizzle-thunder of Lin’s weapon. The wet crunch of her trowel’s blade sliding into firm flesh. This time it was Mikey writhing under the sharpened tool. Screaming. Smoke.

  Nel’s eyes flew open, adrenaline and fear propelling her from the dream. Nightmare. She fumbled for her phone on her bedside, finding nothing. With a g
roan, she pushed herself upright and staggered to the bathroom.

  Nothing was unpacked and her phone was still missing. “Thanks, past Nel.”

  She found it on the back porch, damp and with 3% battery. Shit. The time flashed on the screen as she plugged it in to charge in the kitchen, along with three calendar reminders of her morning meeting with Martos in nineteen minutes. Shit!

  She skittered down the hall, hauling her lesson plans from her bag and dumping them on the counter. It would give the illusion that she bothered to look them over.

  A shower and clean business clothes made a world of difference, but the tan face peering back from the mirror still bore unfamiliar lines and shadows. I look like a vagabond. The nightmare still echoed in her emotions. It might not have been Mikey in the burning shed, but it was someone.

  Martos pulled in the drive before she had time to dry her hair, so she rushed to the kitchen and put the water on. Avoiding the papers on the counter was hard, but the sight of Mikey’s handwriting made her want to scream.

  The bell rang and she poked her head down the hall. “Come in!” She could not meet the man’s eyes. Not yet. Last time I saw him we were dropping handfuls of dirt over an urn.

  Martos wheeled into the kitchen. "I can't believe they finally paved that road. First time in years I didn't fear for my alignment."

  Nel laughed and jerked a nod at the fridge. "I've got some muffins in there if you're interested. And kettle's just boiled."

  "I’ll pass on the muffins—dentist appointment later. Roobios would be lovely, though."

  She grinned to herself as she filled his already prepared mug. He never changed. She leaned on the counter across from him after making her coffee. "So what did you want to talk about?"

  "I wanted to see how you're doing. School's just around the corner and you haven't been to the office once."

  She looked down. "I'm doing all right. It's kind of hard to be there."